


Caught In the Act

by DilynAliceBlake



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: BDSM, Blasphemy, Blood Play, Bloodplay, Bondage, Caught, Clones, Copies, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Dungeon, Fantasy Sex, Implied Gangbang, Incest, Knife Play, M/M, Misuse of Religion, Needy roman, Sadomasochism, Twincest, and remus is Very Commanding in this one, but i didnt mention a safeword, desperate roman, dubcon, like roman is into it, masochist roman, remrom - Freeform, sadistic remus, shame slut roman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25833931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DilynAliceBlake/pseuds/DilynAliceBlake
Summary: Remus thinks that if Roman was going to have Remus fuck him, then he should have at least been invited.  Roman isn't doing much thinking, because his fantasy just got high jacked by the real deal, and he's too busy internally screaming.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders
Comments: 21
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Do Not Collect $200](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25796719) by [Kittycattycat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittycattycat/pseuds/Kittycattycat). 



Imagination can be used for many things- Sexual fantasies among them. If any of the others brought it up, Roman would call it crass. He would say, quite truthfully, that such things were more Remus’ purview than his own. But Roman wasn’t without desires. He was a prince, but that didn’t make him beyond lust.

So Roman imagined the things he could never admit to desiring. He lived the fantasies he would never dare say out loud. Roman gave himself over to the mercy of his most depraved and secret cravings. It was practically routine. The problem was, he was only half of creativity. You can’t lock a side out of their own domain. That meant there was exactly one aspect with the ability to walk in on him.

Roman liked to fantasize about that a lot. That was his excuse for not immediately noticing that the Remus who walked in was real.


	2. Chapter 2

In the prince’s castle, unknown to anyone except Roman himself, there was a dungeon. It wasn’t used for criminals. There were no inmates or holding cells. It wasn’t that type of dungeon. Roman’s dungeon was where he locked away the thoughts that slipped through the proverbial cracks. The things that, if Thomas or Patton were aware of them, would go straight to Remus’ territory. Roman wasn’t about to bring what he did to anyone’s attention.

“You’re late,” Remus said, cocky confidence oozing from his posture. There was never a set schedule for when Roman would have time to sneak away, but in his fantasies he was late. It gave him a good starting point for the need to be punished.

“Apologies, Your Grace,” Roman obligingly capitulated. That wouldn’t be the end of it. The Remus of his imaginary dungeon gave a derisive scoff. “I don’t give a fuck, and you know it. Words are cheap, Your Lowness.”

Roman’s stomach flipped and he dropped to his knees.

“That’s more like it,” Remus smugly encouraged, and gestured for Roman to approach. Roman did, the stone cold and uncomfortable beneath his hands and knees as he moved forward at a crawl. There were damp puddles and places tacky with what he imagined was drying blood. It smelled of copper and stagnant water. Shame coiled beneath Roman’s ribs and the Remus double grabbed him harshly by the hair.

“Look at you. So desperate to be debased. I could have you begging to suck my cock.”

“Please-” Roman started, eager to please and knowing that what he was saying would only irritate his impromptu master. Three fingers shoved their way harshly into his mouth, gagging him, and Roman jerked in place as he spluttered and choked.

“You know the rules,” Remus insisted. “You want dick, you have to earn it, pretty boy.”

Roman shivered and nodded gently, Remus’ fingers still crammed uncomfortably into his throat. They’re removed, Remus giving a satisfied hum as he smears Roman’s own drool across his cheek to dry them. When the sound of the door opening reaches him, Roman is licking the top of Remus’ boot, hands behind his back as he struggles to balance bent on his knees without falling or using his arms to brace himself against Remus’ legs or the floor.

“What the actual fuck?” comes Remus’ voice from the doorway, and Roman doesn’t remember deciding to add more of his brother today, but the one he’s servicing now makes a remark about how Roman’s always so desperate for Remus to find out what a cockslut he is. Roman’s so used to agreeing with Remus, so heavily lodged in his subservience, that “Yes, Your Grace,” falls out of his mouth automatically between strokes of his tongue.

It isn’t until the second Remus strides up, growling and incensed, to snap the neck of the first and watch him dissolve into dust, that Roman realizes that this time he really hadn’t imagined the second. Remus had actually caught him, and when Roman dares to look up, there’s rage in his twin’s eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Remus can’t quite remember why he’d originally gone looking for him, because when he finds Roman he is shocked into temporary stillness. There is no room for thoughts in his head when he sees Roman kneeling, hands carefully behind him, to lick the shoes of the dungeon’s master.

“What,” he starts, before his brain catches up with him and he sees that the dom Roman is groveling for is a  _ copy of him _ . “The fuck!”

Half of him is indignant that anyone should treat Roman this way, but the part of him that is thinking more clearly pipes up about this being Roman’s fantasy. Remus should perhaps be flattered at the likeness, but all he can feel is burning jealousy.

Roman doesn’t seem startled by his presence, and Remus wonders how many times Roman had to have imagined Remus catching him here. But he is The Duke himself, not just some half-assed copy, and if he is going to be here then he is going to star. Then Roman refers to the copy as “Your Grace,” and Remus decides that his brother’s attention should actually be on him, solely. The clone has to go, for even daring to experience this before Remus knew about it. When he snaps its neck it fades into dust instead of collapsing. Roman’s sensibilities don’t let him leave corpses around to rot, but apparently they’ll let him sub for Remus from his knees.


	4. Chapter 4

“If you’re going to be ashamed for something,” Remus cuts him off before Roman can try and wriggle his way out of such a delightful situation, “It should be for settling for a copy. You can’t really think that you know my mind well enough to guess what I would do.”

He sees the moment that his willing participation clicks, because Roman’s mouth falls open and his eyes are practically starry.

“Sir?” he asks, hopeful and shy. It’s less deferential than the title he’d used for the clone, and that means that he finds it irritating.

“What happened to ‘Your Grace?” he mocks, tone biting as he strides to stand in place of the copy.

“Remus, I-”

“Don’t you FUCKING DARE!” Remus screams, rage overflowing. When the red clears from his vision he finds himself digging the spikes of his morningstar into the sensitive skin of Roman’s throat. Roman is choking and leaning back as much as he can without overbalancing, but his hands are still clasped behind his back. This isn’t a fight; it’s escalation and Roman’s continued submission.

“Whatever rules you’re used to, whatever games you play,” Remus sneers, “None of that matters. You’re going to forget about those  _ stupid fucking copies _ , because I’m here, and you and I are going to play.”

He removes his weapon so that Roman can catch his breath.

“You wanted me,” Remus warns, “So you don’t get to deny me.”

Roman tosses aside any ideas he has about salvaging his pride. It’s everything he ever wanted, but he can’t help but wonder if he’s actually prepared for it.


	5. Chapter 5

Usually Roman struggles to stay in whatever position he ends up ordered into, and relishes in the punishment inevitable failure brings. Remus doesn’t give him the chance to mess up. He locks the manacles around Roman’s wrists and has him spread out with his legs wide open. Roman is not left with even the illusion of control, and Remus’ rage is close enough to the surface that fear keeps him from arguing.

Remus had said they were going to play but he pulls out a dagger and Roman feels like this is going to be more like a lesson than any sort of game.

“From now on, Ro, if you want something, you’re going to ask me,” Remus orders, cutting the clothes layer by layer away from Roman’s skin. He doesn’t do anything to stop the blade from nicking him, and the unexpected sting leaves Roman wincing. He’s already more battered than he would usually be, and without the ability to direct what happens next he’s keenly aware of the danger Remus’ weapon presents.

“Do you know what I would have done differently?” Remus teases, and enjoys the sight of Roman’s mind racing while he licks at one of the cuts. A particularly long slice on Roman’s hip inspires him, and he begins to deliberately carve his symbol into the skin. The tentacles of the sword are tricky in the dungeon’s dim light, but more distracting is the twitch of Roman’s persistent erection.

Remus breathes out against the cock’s sensitive head, and relishes Roman’s endearing whine.

“Do you want to know?” he croons, digging a finger sharply into one of the less artful cuts. It wouldn’t do to mess up good work, but he doesn’t have to resist temptation when there are such a variety of marks to choose from. He won’t say or do anything more until Roman asks, because they could have been doing things like this for ages if Roman was just a bit less nervous about admitting his needs.

Once his goody two shoes brother is better at asking for things, Remus will start denying him. He’s going to make Roman  _ squirm _ . 


	6. Chapter 6

The dagger falls to the floor with a clatter when Remus is done with it, and it should worry Roman that Remus doesn’t just dissipate it, but instead he’s titillated by the idea that it could be snatched up and used again later. The burning of the cuts is a sharp contrast to the cool air, and Roman finds himself very aware of his own vulnerability.

Remus licks blood from his teeth and stands waiting. He’s really going to make Roman ask for more, and the prince flushes with embarrassment. He wants to beg for whatever scraps Remus will deign to give, but the words catch in his throat. The truth has already been seen and dissected, but Roman can’t bring himself to give in completely. Remus sees the truth on his face and gives a grin.

“Don’t worry, Ro,” he says, hovering his fingers just above touching. “If you don’t want me for anything right now, I could just leave you like this and come back later. I know I’m asking for a lot. There’s no harm in giving you an hour or two to think about it.”

Roman tugs against the restraints instinctively, but he knows they’ll hold, just like he knows that Remus would be willing to leave him here like this in some perverse attempt to teach him a lesson. The problem is that Roman finds the idea a bit too exciting. 

“Not yet,” Roman manages, but it sounds less like a statement than a question.

“Oh? You aren’t opposed? Perhaps you even _like_ the idea? I can’t say there’s no appeal for me. Leaving you here tied up and waiting, trapped at my whim and mercy… Well, there’s certainly time for that later.”

It should gall him, but even Remus’ voice is a balm. He makes the cruel suggestion into something sultry. Roman can picture him in the kitchen, chatting with the other sides, smirking knowingly when someone mentions his absence. He’d probably go so far as to say that Roman was “a bit tied up at the moment,” and the others might be suspicious enough to put Roman’s circumstances together from the clue. Remus wouldn’t be afraid to tell, if they questioned him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings in this chapter for tentacles, orgasm denial, and talk of vomit during oral sex.

“Oh god,” Roman utters, and Remus has the audacity to giggle.

“I’d say it’s just me, but God is a step up from Your Grace, so I’ll take it. Now, let’s try again, Ro-ro. What. Do you want?”

It’s not a difficult question because Roman can’t find an answer, but because there are so many, and they all boil down to ‘This.’

Remus’ undivided attention, Roman at his questionable mercy, and the promise of something indecent just around the corner if only Roman can be  _ good  _ enough and please his master.   
Remus must see something in his gaze, because he saunters forward to lean close.

“I’ll answer your prayers, if only you share them. Damnation or salvation, the choice is yours. The time for shame is passed,” he croons, and he’s right, because Roman is chained and stripped bare.

“Fuck me,” he tries, voice shakey.

“Honey, that’s only the beginning,” Remus assures, “They don’t call me the Duke of Depravity for nothing.”

So saying, Remus finally sheds his own top, and the writhing mass of tentacles unfurling from his torso has Roman’s jaw falling in surprise. Remus takes the opening to slide one into his mouth, and Roman doesn’t know if the ooze on them is a natural secretion or something Remus smears on them, but it tastes acrid, and he can’t close his mouth around the intrusion. The smell alone would make him gag under normal circumstances, but even as his nausea roils and his body tries to reject it, the tentacle slides deeper.

“Don’t worry,” Remus says, panting slightly at the delicious sight and sensation before him, “Puking will only encourage me.”

Even as his body thrashes and tries to escape the sensations, Roman’s arousal crests. Before he can reach release, a second tentacle wraps itself deftly around his dick, squeezing hard.

“Not so soon, though I’m flattered. Save it for later, we’ve barely begun.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so so so sorry, this is just kink at this point, read at your own risk

Roman’s jaw is aching; his throat is full and time has lost all meaning. He is full to brim with  _ Remus _ but can’t help but wish he were full to bursting. He tries to swallow more of the tentacle down, makes a valiant attempt at  _ sucking _ , but instead of pushing further in, Remus pulls back against the suction, enjoying being contrary.

“Such a pretty sight you make, Ro.”

As soon as the appendage pulls back enough for him to be capable of vocalizing, Roman whines.

“Aren’t you desperate!” Remus crows, and makes haste to oblige.

The tentacle is shoved back in harshly, and he fingers the scraps of cloth left of Roman’s outfit with a thoughtful look.

“Maybe it was a bit hasty of me to cut it off you, but really, who has time for regrets?”


	9. Chapter 9

So saying, Remus makes his way to the nearest sconce and lifts the lit candle from its place. It’s far enough away that just the tentacle’s tip remains in Roman’s mouth, but without the filling girth Remus has room to make use of his dexterity, and Roman gets an answer to whether or not the oozing slime is natural when a sudden flood of it secretes into his mouth for Remus to play in.

“Don’t swallow,” Remus says, then giggles. “I know, I know, that’s not usually how these things go, I’m trying to get a feel for how much I can fill you up.”

More and more of the gook seeps into Roman’s mouth, until his cheeks are bulging and even as he try to contain it, some seeps out of the corners of his mouth.

“Good, hold that,” Remus purrs, removing the tentacle completely. “I’m going to use it to lube you up later, so try not to spill any.”

Once the insinuating incentive is given, Remus holds the candle above the fresh red cut of his logo in Roman’s hip.

“This may hurt a little,” he whispers, like he’s confiding some friendly secret shared between them, and Roman presses his lips together firmly in preparation. Don’t swallow, don’t spill, he chants to himself, and then burning wax is hitting skin.


	10. Chapter 10

He throws his head back to prevent spillage when he can no longer hold back the moans. Glops of Remus’ guck bubble past his lips, making a mess of his cheeks as he tries to contain as much as possible through the gargle of noises he’s failed to restrain. The tentacle that earlier was keeping him from coming is now stroking him off, and Roman is light headed at the mix of pleasure, pain, and predicament. His attention is torn between the focus of his task and the riot of sensations Remus is delighting in trying to overwhelm him with.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t really expect you to be able to keep all of it,” Remus reassures, admiring the way Roman looks with his slime coating his face.

“You should still have plenty for me to fuck you with. Or, well, you do right now. I wouldn’t go getting reckless with it, precious.”

Remus dips two fingers into Roman’s mouth playfully, and passes the candle to a free tentacle.

“See, I told you we would have fun, Ro. You’re being so good that this time I won’t even stop you from coming.”

A slick finger presses into his ass at the same time that the appendage gripping Roman’s dick  _ undulates _ , and Roman spills more of the lube.


	11. Chapter 11

“No more of these,” Remus declares, unlatching the manacles with impressive dexterity for the fact that he’s doing so all at once while his hands are otherwise occupied. Perhaps the fact that they’re in the imagination helps with the task- It often eases the way when convenience is more important than realism.

Before Roman can make any attempt to get more comfortable the tentacles are winding around his limbs where the cuffs used to be. Remus just wanted to hold him himself. It isn’t a grip Roman would have any trouble escaping- All of Remus’ tentacles are slick enough that he could slip away with just a moment of leverage. Remus is plenty distracted enough not to stop him.

They both know that the real reason Roman is here, pinned and spread open by Remus and those unholy tentacles, is because he wants to be. 


	12. Chapter 12

Fingers pumping in and out, cum and candle wax cooling and drying on Roman’s stomach while Remus monologues in time with the movements of his hand.

“I am your apple, to taste me is to sin. You are damned and blessed by the knowledge, and such a decision is eternal; it cannot be undone.”

The perversion of scripture is typical for Remus, and that makes it all the more titillating. When Remus is done preparing him, he leans down and slurps the rest of the lubrication from Roman’s mouth obscenely, sucking the last of it from his tongue as he thrusts his dick in. 

Roman has run out of sounds to express himself, and greets both gestures with silent and overwhelmed shaking. The hand that Remus used to stretch him open is now making a mess of Roman’s hair, but he’s so far gone at this point that he can’t bring himself to care. 

The grip of the tentacles on his wrists and ankles goes from menacing to somehow tender, and a possessive hand finds a home above the wax covered cut Remus had spent such care creating.

Remus doesn’t bother telling Roman to move when he wants his legs repositioned. He puts them where he wants, bending Roman to his advantage, and when he comes he bites Roman’s tongue.


End file.
